


The Prince and the Summoner

by pink___stardust



Series: Accepting yourself is no easy task [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Mutual Pining, Rating May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2020-12-07 15:17:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20978033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pink___stardust/pseuds/pink___stardust
Summary: A collection of tales about the Prince of Askr and his trusted Summoner, covering their friendship and budding romance.





	1. Study Partner

**Author's Note:**

> guess who's deep in kiralfonse hell and decided to create a one-shot collection? this bitch. i haven't written in literal years so forgive me if i'm a little rusty. enjoy!

If one were to describe Kiran’s study, the first words that came to Alfonse’s mind was “organized chaos”.

Stacks of old, heavy books (so heavy in fact, Kiran had to amass a small army of the brawnier Heroes to carry them all from the library) surrounded her desk in an almost makeshift fortress, covering the floor in a permanent layer of dust that Alfonse was sure would someday cause her breathing problems. The desk was no better, being littered with both half-finished and discarded drafts of various strategies, and bearing a few permanent ink stains from when Kiran was still learning to write with a quill.

(She had come to him, barely holding back tears and apologizing profusely for ruining the desk; it had taken the combined efforts of Alfonse, Sharena and Anna to assure her they were not angry and that it was okay, accidents happen. According to Anna, Kiran had spent the better part of an hour desperately scrubbing at the stains before giving up and looking at her with such a miserable expression you’d think she accidentally kicked a puppy.)

Despite the study’s chaotic presentation, if Alfonse asked Kiran for a specific report she would dive into the mess with pinpoint precision and promptly recover the document. He had no idea how she did it, but it seemed to work for her, so Alfonse politely kept his complaints of the untidiness of it all to himself.

Today Alfonse stood in front of the large oak doors leading to Kiran’s study, having been informed by Jakob that the Summoner wished to speak with him. He knocked softly, pushing open the doors when a muffled “come in” answered him.

Kiran was hunched over her desk, quill moving so furiously over the parchment Alfonse feared it would rip. Her tongue stuck out the corner of her mouth while her left leg bounced, dislodging a few wrinkled parchments abandoned on the floor.

The familiar sight of the messy study brought a smile to Alfonse’s face. He approached the desk and folded his arms behind his back. “You wanted to see me, Summoner?”

Kiran’s head immediately snapped up and she grinned once she registered his presence. “Alfonse!” Kiran set down her quill and straightened her posture. “Yes, I wanted to ask you a question actually.”

“Well then, I’ll do my best to answer it.”

Kiran paused, seemingly nervous for a second. She took a deep breath, then stared directly into Alfonse’s eyes.

“Alfonse, would you please teach me?”

Alfonse blinked. Shortly after coming to Askr, Kiran had expressed doubts about serving as the Order’s Summoner and tactician due to her lack of formal training (_“Raw talent can only get you so far” _she had said, worry evident in her expression). Agreeing with her sentiment, Alfonse had set up for the royal tutors who had been in charge of both his and Sharena’s education to teach Kiran as well. Last time he had approached them, all had spoken of Kiran as a diligent and eager student, if a bit scatterbrained at times.

“I- why? Are you dissatisfied with your tutors, Kiran?”

“Oh no! They’re lovely people and I’ve learned much from them, but…” Kiran wrung her hands and shrugged, avoiding eye contact.

“But…?” Alfonse gently prodded.

“It’s just- I understand it much better when it’s you, Alfonse. The way you talk, especially when it’s a topic you like-” Kiran waved her hands wildly as a soft blush covered her cheeks. Was she embarrassed? “it- it makes me want to learn more about Askr, and the different worlds, and tactics- not just as an obligation to you and the Order, but because_ I genuinely want to_.”

Alfonse was stunned. He had no idea he had such an impact on Kiran, and as much as he didn’t want to admit it (_Don’t get too close to the heroes_, a small voice whispered in his thoughts, _That includes Kiran_) he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t pleased with this discovery.

Kiran’s shoulders slumped and she sighed. “Sorry- I’m imposing on you, aren’t I? Especially when you were so kind as to arrange tutors for me…”

"No, it’s alright.” Alfonse cleared his throat and smiled. “If would please you, I could go over the material with you after your lessons to clear away any doubts?”

Kiran’s eyes widened as she stood abruptly from her chair. “Really?”

“Of course-“

In a matter of seconds, Kiran had rounded her desk and enveloped Alfonse in a bone-crushing hug, which was quite impressive considering he was wearing armor.

(He could not help but notice how nice she smelled, or how her breath tickled his ear as she let out a soft and melodious laugh and Alfonse knew he shouldn’t be doing this – _he shouldn’t be so close_ – but he could not bring himself to break contact).

When Kiran pulled back and smiled at him with reddened cheeks, Alfonse knew his was just as red and cursed his own weakness.


	2. Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a dash of angst and fluff for y'all. i love one (1) man

"Promise you'll never leave us... without warning me first."

Alfonse’s voice came out as a whisper, and Kiran had to strain her ears to hear it even in the middle of the deserted library.

Kiran had been in the process of pulling an all-nighter when the Askran prince had appeared, ostensibly to drag Kiran to bed. It was a recurring scenario – Kiran would often overwork herself to the point of sleep deprivation and Alfonse would intervene on behalf of the Order and the worried Heroes, forcing her to take care of herself. Tonight was no different, and after a stern but well-meaning scolding from Alfonse, Kiran had acquiesced and moved to leave the library when the prince suddenly grabbed her hand and uttered those words.

Kiran froze. Alfonse did not communicate his feelings often, stubbornly clinging to his mantra of keeping his distance from both Heroes and the Summoner herself. Kiran liked to think she had managed to chip away at his attitude at least a little, as Alfonse’s polite but cold professionalism had faded away to a more relaxed, tentative comradeship. Kiran never pushed past Alfonse’s boundaries, always content in taking tiny genuine smiles, short conversations and offers to accompany her on her tasks as small victories. She genuinely wanted to befriend the prince, but understood that he was hurt and that it would take time for him to heal. So Kiran chose to wait and do her best to be as kind and understanding as possible.

(It was not as selfless as it seemed. She was terrified of being in a foreign land with no one to call her friend, and had clung to Alfonse, Sharena and Anna to give her stability, to show her how to survive in this terrifying, bloody war she had been dragged into against her will. But she would not tell them. She would not blame them. She refused to.)

For Alfonse to vocalize his feelings… what kind of turmoil must he be going through?

_Zacharias._

Of course.

Opening up Alfonse’s heart also came with its drawbacks. If Kiran had really succeeded in changing Alfonse’s stance on friendships, then it’s no wonder the prince would begin to fear the Summoner would disappear like his dear friend Zacharias. Even though that wound had mended a little with the discovery that Zacharias was alive and well, the fear and anxiety remained.

Kiran turned to face Alfonse and her heart broke. Alfonse refused to meet her eyes, training them on her boots instead, but Kiran could see the crease in his eyebrows and the downturn of his mouth. He seemed small and _tired_ and torn between warring emotions. The grip on her hand was firm but gentle and Kiran found herself squeezing back.

“Alfonse… I promise I won’t disappear.” She grabbed his other hand and squeezed it as well. “I’ll stay by your side.”

Alfonse finally looked up, his expression a mix of fear and hope, and Kiran smiled reassuringly.

What came next was a matter of instinct.

Kiran let go of Alfonse’s hands and got on her tiptoes. Caressing his cheek with one hand and brushing the hair from his forehead with the other, Kiran planted a soft kiss on the prince’s forehead.

“Su- Kiran?”

Kiran hummed, satisfied that Alfonse had called her by her name, and pulled back. She was met with the sight of Alfonse’s rosy cheeks and stunned expression and she could feel herself redden as well. Her decision had been sudden but she didn’t regret it.

“Promises are sealed with kisses.” She stated simply as if she spoke an universal truth that Alfonse ought to have already known about.

“Kiran you- are really something else.” Alfonse chuckled and Kiran couldn’t help but to grin back. “I’ll take that as a compliment!”

“Now-“ Kiran extended her hand towards Alfonse. “If I stay here any longer I might fall asleep standing up. Let’s go to bed, shall we?”

Affection welled up in Kiran’s heart as Alfonse took her hand with minimal hesitation. “Of course. I can’t have you falling asleep on our meeting tomorrow.”

“Hey! That was one time!”

Alfonse’s laughter echoed in the large library and Kiran couldn’t help but think it might just become her favorite sound.


	3. Parting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a very tiny not-really-drabble i wrote on tumblr. líf's death still hurts my guys

The final blow is delivered. Not just by Fólkvangr, but also Alfonse’s promise. Líf’s vision slowly blurs, the world becoming nothing but misshapen colors as his senses fade.

Líf closes his eyes. When he opens them again he sees her.

Kiran.

_His_ Kiran.

She steps forward, smiling that same sweet smile reserved just for him. A smile of stolen kisses and tight embraces and sweet nothings whispered in each other’s ears. A smile from a time of happiness before their world was cruelly destroyed by Hel and his own failures.

She lovingly brushes the hair from his face, then lets her hand rest on his cheek. Líf – _Alfonse_ leans into her touch.

“You did your best, Alfonse. You can rest now.”

Relief floods through Alfonse as he nods, turning to kiss the palm of her hand. 

“Thank you, my love. I’ll be joining you soon.”

Alfonse turns at Líf’s words in time to see him fade away with a smile.


	4. Nightmares and Remedies (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is. the chapter that bumped up the rating. nsfw chapters will be marked as such from now on. enjoy the first smut i've ever written!

It started out innocently enough.

The pressure of leading an army and fighting a war that she had been unwillingly dragged into manifested itself in terrible nightmares for Kiran. No tonic seemed to help her sleep, and exhaustion seeped deeply into her bones until Kiran was all but a walking zombie. In her desperation for rest, she had sought him.

Alfonse remembered that night well. He had awakened with soft knocking at his door, and opening it revealed Kiran in her nightclothes, clutching her pillow tightly and on the verge of tears. With a trembling voice, she had asked him if she could stay the night – she was too weak and tired to fight her demons by herself. Alfonse held her all night as she tossed and turned from her nightmares, determined to provide comfort for his beloved Summoner, to repay her for all her kindness and love.

From that day forward it became routine. When night fell and the Order was asleep, Alfonse would welcome Kiran into his room and they would share his bed. Slowly but surely, Kiran’s nightmares diminished in frequency and intensity, until she could go through several weeks at a time without one.

However, when Kiran tried to sleep in her own room, both Alfonse and Kiran found they missed each other as they laid wide awake on their respective beds. They muffled their laughs as they met each other in the hallway, each having left their room to seek the other out, and Kiran was soon back spending the night in Alfonse’s embrace.

There was nothing innocent about it now, however. Especially with how Alfonse’s fingers were dipped between Kiran’s folds, experimentally teasing along her slit as she murmured words of encouragement.

Alfonse’s index finger found her entrance and easily slid inside, beginning to pump at a slow and steady pace. He searched Kiran’s face, looking for any kind of discomfort, any sign that he should stop. Instead he was met with a sight that made all his blood rush south.

Kiran’s eyes were glazed over with love and lust in equal measure, a deep blush coating her cheeks as she breathed heavily through her parted lips. A thin layer of sweat covered her, giving her skin an attractive sheen, and her hair was disheveled from her twisting and turning in the sheets in response to Alfonse’s ministrations.

She looked beautiful.

Alfonse added a second finger and Kiran clung to his shirt, praises of her beloved prince rushing from her lips between moans and sighs. _“Ah- Al-fonse, Alfie if feels so good, you’re so good, so good to me, please don’t stop-“_

Alfonse drank her moans as he kissed her, tongue pushing past her lips to explore her mouth as he was filled with a burning desire to commit both her taste and the feeling of her walls clenched around his fingers to memory. His thumb found her clit and Kiran all but _screamed_ into his mouth as he massaged the bundle of nerves.

She was close, Alfonse could tell, the shaking of her thighs and increasingly loud moans a dead giveaway to her state. Part of him was mortified that someone might hear, but the part of him that was determined to give pleasure to his beloved Summoner, determined to repay her for all her kindness and love, won out. As they broke apart for air, Alfonse busied himself by kissing and sucking upon the skin of her neck and increased his pace, delighting himself in the half-strangled scream Kiran let out.

Alfonse knew he had accomplished his goal when Kiran’s walls clamped down on his fingers, her back arching of the bed and whole body trembling as she lost herself in her orgasm. After a few moments, she fell back into the bed with a _thump_, a smile of satisfaction soon spreading across her face.

“Are you alright Kiran? “ Alfonse gently inquired, brushing a wayward strand of hair from her face.

Kiran’s smile widened. “I’m more than alright, Alfonse. You were amazing.”

Alfonse smiled bashfully at her words. “Truly? Then I could wish for nothing more.”

Kiran’s smile quickly morphed into a mischievous grin. “Really? Not even for me to-“ she reached down, palm settling on his clothed erection “-help with this?”

Alfonse blushed furiously and let out a low moan at the contact. “If… if it’s not too much trouble…”

Kiran surprised Alfonse by quickly switching their positions, now hovering above him and eyeing him with a predatory grin. A shiver went up his spine. “You’re _never_ too much trouble, Alfie.” she all but purred.

No sleep was had that night.


	5. A Lesson in Humility

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aka the summoner forces respect commoners juice down berkut's throat. i love you berkut, but you deserve it. sorry this one's short. thank you for all the kudos and if this story tickles your fancy, please do comment!

“Summoner, may I ask you something?”

Kiran looked up from the daily training report she had been reading, finding a notably confused Alfonse staring back at her. “Of course. What is it, Alfonse?”

“Did you give orders for Berkut to work in the kitchens?”

“Oh! That!” An impish grin bloomed on Kiran’s face. “Well, you see, Berkut was being _a bit of an asshole_ about _commoners_ again, so I decided to knock him down a peg or two!” she answered cheerfully.

Ah. So _that’s_ what it was about.

Kiran had made it clear from her arrival that she did not care about a person’s background as long as they cooperated with the Order of Heroes, a mindset which had allowed her to at the very least gain the respect of even the more… _unsavory_ Heroes. Alfonse also knew that she felt more at ease among the Heroes belonging to the common folk, as she had explained she was from a common background herself.

_“It’s not that I dislike nobility. My grandparents were from a tiny village in the mountains… my mother and her sisters were the first generation of my family to get a full education. I was never wanting for anything, but wasn’t rich either. I was just a regular girl.”_ She had confided in him once.

Kiran was a slow person to anger and respectful to a fault. However, Alfonse had never seen her snap at a Hero like she had done shortly after Berkut’s summoning. Kiran had approached him after noticing he was isolating himself from the other Heroes, concern evident in her expression as she had spoken to him. Berkut’s response, that he refused to mingle with commoners, caused an instant shift in Kiran’s mood. From pleasant and polite to furious and indignant in a matter of seconds, her harsh words drew the attention of everyone in the vicinity.

_“If you have a problem with commoners, you’re barking up the wrong tree, buddy. Half of the Order, _myself included_, are commoners._ _So you better change your mindset and start respecting people, because while I could not care less about what you think of me, I will _not_ tolerate disrespect towards your fellow Heroes.”_

It seems Berkut had disregarded the Summoner’s warning at his own peril. And Alfonse had to admit that the sight of the prideful lord on his hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor was both amusing and oddly satisfying.

Alfonse nodded in understanding. “I see. For how long are the orders in effect?”

“A week or so. God knows he isn’t used to this kind of work, so he might not be able to handle it any longer than that.” Kiran chuckled.

“Kind even in your punishments, aren’t you, Summoner?”

Kiran punched his armed playfully. “Oh hush, you. Besides, punishment is such a harsh word. I prefer to call it… a lesson.”

“A lesson in humility, then?”

Kiran grinned. “A lesson in humility… yes, that sounds about right.”


	6. Parallel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a role reversal au between kiran and líf? in my fic? it's more likely than you think

Accepting the deal was simple for Kiran.

She had failed. The Great Hero, the Summoner and head tactitian of the Order of Heroes of the Kingdom of Askr, had failed. No matter how many strategies she came up with, no matter how many Heroes lent her their strength, she could not save them. It didn’t matter that she had overseen an alliance with Embla, it didn’t matter they had initiated the Rite of the Heart of Angrboða, all had perished as Hel became the true ruler of Zenith.

First it was Sharena. Hel took her life while Kiran and Alfonse could do nothing but scream and plead for their cherished friend and sister. Then, as the Heart continued to beat, Anna drew her last breath. Finally, Alfonse. Oh, _Alfonse_. He had given his life to protect her, begging her to live on and save herself, passing away in her arms as Kiran wailed and raged against the heavens for her lover.

Then, Hel had offered a deal. A simple bargain. Balance the cohort of the dead, and Askr shall be saved.

Under the weight of all of her failures and the death of her beloved friends and the love of her life, accepting the deal was simple for Kiran. She never had a choice to begin with.

* * *

Mímir was the name she chose. A loyal friend to Líf, first king of Askr, and the master tactitian that help unify the kingdom. Hel offered her Thrymheim, a powerful tome of dark magic. A tattered gray hooded robe covered her, while a black owl mask hid her identity. Fitting, Kiran-

(no, she could no longer bear that name. She was unworthy.)

\- _Mímir_ thought, for a person who had forsaken the right to walk in the light.

* * *

She wanted to scream when she first saw them. Alfonse, Sharena and Anna. Young, joyful and _alive_. Valiantly battling the soldiers of the realm of the dead knowing nothing of the fate that awaited them.

Then she saw herself. Rage consumed her entire being, its flames so ferocious she almost felt her heart beat again. It was all her fault. If she had strategized _better_, fought _harder_, all would be alive and well. Askr wouldn’t be ruined.

So she raised her hand and cast a spell. Kiran would die today. Mímir would kill Kiran.

And the cohort of the dead would be balanced.

….

Once again, she failed.

* * *

“I know your name. Your _true _name.”

Mímir paused. “Do you now, Prince Alfonse?”

Alfonse, strong and brave and beautiful in his golden armor, pinned her down with his stare. Those eyes, those beautiful eyes, shining brightly. Not clouded. Not lifeless.

“You target Kiran obsessively, but go out of your way to avoid harming me. You laid bouquets of Sharena’s and my favorite flowers in that desolate Askr. There’s only one person who you could be.”

“Kiran. That is your true name.”

The mask clattered to the ground.

Kiran smiled. A bittersweet, strained smile. Tears fell freely from her eyes.

“I really can hide nothing from you, Alfonse.”


	7. Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you like my writing and love alfonse like i do, check out my feh writing blog at breidablik-and-folkvangr on tumblr!

It was during a training session that a flustered Elise approached Alfonse and asked him to come with her urgently. The cheerful and bubbly attitude that the young troubadour always seemed to sport was replaced with anxiety mixed with righteous anger as she pulled on Alfonse’s arm, intent on dragging him if need be so.

“It’s about Kiran! A man hurt her!” Elise pleaded.

Elise almost fell as Alfonse immediately began to walk rapidly towards the training grounds’ exit, pulling her along with him for a few feet before she regained her footing. His expression was hard, frown already set in and mouth curved downwards in anger.

“Lead the way, Elise.”

* * *

The scene Alfonse came upon made him see red.

Kiran stood to the side, head hung in shame and an attempt to hide the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. _Nursing_ _a red hand-shaped mark on her cheek_. Corrin’s hands rested on her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her, and Elise parted from his side to join her older sister.

Xander had an iron grip on the arm of a man Alfonse immediately recognized as one of the royal tacticians his father the king had lent to the Order of Heroes, and who had been charged with giving Kiran formal training on military tactics as per her request. His eyes widened as soon as he spotted the prince, mouth immediately opening to placate him but Alfonse was having none of it.

With great effort, Alfonse managed to keep his voice even as he asked “What happened here?”

“This _cretin_” Xander tightened his grip on the royal tactician for emphasis, causing the man to yelp “Struck Kiran. Corrin, Elise and I witnessed it.”

“I see. Thank you for holding him here until I arrived.” Alfonse said, voice instantly softening as he turned to Kiran. “Are you alright, Kiran?”

Kiran nodded, head still down. Corrin squeezed her shoulders in reassurance. “Yes. I’m okay.”

Oh, how Alfonse wanted to draw Folkvangr right then and there and drive it through the man when he heard the quiver in her voice.

“Prince Alfonse! I can explain!” the royal tactician begged, eyes wild with panic.

Alfonse had to keep himself from snorting in response. How could he possibly justify hurting her? “Let’s hear it, then.”

“This _girl_” the royal tactician jabbed his finger towards Kiran, who flinched instinctively “will destroy this Order! Instead of following the strategies I’ve taught her, she keeps implementing hare-brained schemes!”

“…They’re not hare-brained schemes.” Kiran responded, blinking back her tears. “I’m just adapting what you’ve taught me to create new scenarios so the enemies can’t easily predict our moves, which they _would_ if I used your strategies as they are.”

“_Insolent girl_! I’ve served Askr for longer than you’ve been alive! You’re nothing but an ungrateful little-“

“_Enough._”

The sheer venom behind those words startled everyone present, even Alfonse himself. His hand rested on the hilt of Folkvangr as he turned to face the royal tactician, all color draining from his face as he met the glare of his prince.

“These ‘hare-brained schemes’, as you call them, are responsible for the Order of Heroes’ current state.” Alfonse stated matter-of-factly. “An Order with lesser casualties, an Order who can now fight Embla in equal footing, an Order which prevailed against and defeated Surtr. All feats accomplished thanks to Kiran.”

“But, Your Highness-“

“I am not finished.” Alfonse pressed on. “For you to dare raise your hand against someone who has done so much for Askr, all out of jealousy… There are no words. I am disgusted with you.”

Alfonse signaled for a guard, two stepping forward to grab the arms of the royal tactician. “There will be a punishment. Take time to think on the consequences of your actions.”

Alfonse sighed as the man was dragged away by the guards, kicking and screaming for the prince to listen, but he was set on his decision. Xander nodded to him in approval, excusing himself along with Elise and Corrin, who gave Kiran’s shoulders one last squeeze. Alfonse stepped forward, hand carefully cupping Kiran’s cheek to inspect the damage. The mark was starting to fade, much to Alfonse’s relief.

“Are you truly alright, Kiran?” he asked.

Kiran smiled. “I am, Alfonse, I promise. Especially after you defended me like that. It was very sweet of you.” she giggled and Alfonse couldn’t help but blush at her words.

“W-well, I could not in allow him in good faith to insult the Summoner and Head Tactician of this Order…” ‘_and my trusted partner’_, he thought.

Kiran seemed to know what he was thinking, as her smile morphed into a grin “I know. Thank you.” Kiran’s expression quickly grew somber. “But… what if my plans _do_ fail? What if one day I bring ruin upon Askr?”

Alfonse frowned. He knew Kiran’s self-confidence tended to falter at times, and to hear such scathing remarks from someone she had stated to him she respected… it was only obvious it would struck a chord with her.

“If that day ever comes, Kiran – and I do not believe it will – then I will trust you to save Askr once again. Because you are not perfect, but you are nothing but resourceful and persevering, and I know in my heart that you would succeed.”

Kiran stared at him in shock. Then she hugged him tightly. Alfonse smiled and returned the embrace in full, thanking any and all gods for bringing Kiran to him. The savior of Askr, and his trusted partner.

* * *

_I know in my heart that you would succeed._

As Alfonse struggled to breathe, pained groans escaping him due to the curse of Hel, ruler of the Dead, Kiran could only hope that his trust in her wasn’t misplaced.


	8. Hurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> somone asked for hurt/comfort? i am here to deliver

It was all his fault.

That singular thought repeated itself endlessly in Alfonse’s mind, the self-hatred and anxiety that accompanied it intensifying with each iteration.

Alfonse clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to breathe evenly through his nose, but his breath only became more erratic and strained. He resumed pacing outside of the infirmary, the healers having long given up on convincing him to leave.

How could he possibly leave when he knew that beyond that door lied Kiran, barely clinging to life, and _it was all his fault?_

It had happened so quickly. One moment, Kiran was by his side in battle, shouting commands to the Heroes and providing covering fire with Breidablik. The next, she was laying on the ground, a river of crimson flowing from a gash across her chest and stomach.

An enemy had attempted to ambush him from behind. Kiran had taken the blow for him.

It was all his fault. If he’d been more aware of his surroundings, if he’d reacted faster, he could have dispatched the enemy long before he could even think about raising his sword against Kiran.

But he hadn’t. And now here he was, deprived of his trusted partner. Alone with only his despair and catastrophic imagination for company.

He hazily remembered driving Fólkvangr through the soldier. The next memory was of him cradling Kiran’s body, desperately yelling for healers. She was pale, so pale, and her blood quickly stained his clothes and armor, white and gold dyed red.

_“Why?” _ he repeated the question endlessly, the desperation and fear that accompanied it intensifying with each iteration.

Kiran smiled and shakily raised her hand, softly caressing Alfonse’s cheek. _“I… couldn’t let them… hurt you.”_

With that, she passed out.

What if she never woke up?

A sob threatened to rip from Alfonse’s throat, jolting him back to reality. He rubbed his face furiously in a desperate attempt to keep the tears at bay, stopping his pacing to sit on the small bench by the door.

He had no right to cry. Not when he had brought this on himself.

And then the realization hit him. Kiran might leave him because of his own doing. His worst fear realized by his own hand.

Alfonse grasped at his chest. It felt heavy, almost as if a second organ had grown next to his heart, weighing it down with guilt and misery. He curled into himself, unable to stop the tears from spilling.

And so began Alfonse’s long and tortuous wait for Kiran’s recovery.

* * *

It was on the afternoon of the third day that Kiran finally woke up.

Alfonse had fallen asleep in the chair by Kiran’s bedside that the healers had kindly provided him when a pained yell jolted him awake. His hand instinctively gripped the hilt of Fólkvangr, ready to draw it the moment he spotted the enemy-

But there was no enemy. There was only Kiran, awake.

Kiran. _Awake_.

“K-Kiran?”

“Hi, Alfie.” Kiran softly responded. “Sorry I startled you.”

Alfonse sputtered_._ “That- that doesn’t matter- are you in pain? Should I call the healers?”

“No, I’m okay. I just… tried to sit up when I clearly shouldn’t.” Kiran laughed weakly. “What about you? Are you okay?”

Alfonse stared at her incredulously. “You’re… asking me?”

“Yes. Are you-“

_“Do you even realize the state you’re in?”_

Silence.

The words had left his mouth before he could even register them in his mind. Kiran stared at him in surprised catatonia, and Alfonse quickly lowered his gaze so she couldn’t see the expression on his face.

Alfonse never yelled or interrupted Kiran. He strived to always be thoughtful and kind in his manners and his words, even when he became aggravated by her more silly antics. This… this was the angriest he had ever been. The angriest Kiran had ever seen him.

But… it was necessary. She _needed_ to understand.

“… Alfonse?”

“You were beyond reckless.” Alfonse started. Was his voice wavering?

“What if you had died? Do you- do you realize how I-“ Alfonse quickly cut himself off, balling his hands into fists. Were they shaking? ”Do you realize the predicament you would left the Order in? With no Summoner and Head Tactician? How do you Askr would fare?”

“Alfonse-“

“We can’t lose you. You’re too important. That’s why-“

“Alfonse, please don’t cry.”

Oh.

Was he crying?

Alfonse raised a trembling hand to his face, feeling hot tears spill onto his fingers.

Kiran slowly reached out, grabbing Alfonse’s other hand. Wordlessly, Alfonse allowed himself to be pulled so he was lying in the bed next to Kiran. With great difficulty, she turned to lie on her side, letting go of Alfonse’s hand to instead caress the back of his head, guiding him to rest it in the crook of her neck.

He was so close he could hear it. Her heartbeat.

“I’m sorry.” Kiran offered. “I didn’t realize my death would cause so much distress, especially to you, Alfonse.”

Ah. So she could tell. The unsaid words that plagued his thoughts.

As expected of his trusted partner.

“You- you can’t leave me, Kiran.” Alfonse sobbed, grasping the front of her shirt like a lifeline. “Please. Don’t leave me. I can’t- not again.”

“Shh” Kiran soothed, kissing the top of his head lovingly. “I’m not leaving you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise me.” Alfonse whispered.

“I promise.”

Alfonse raised his head to kiss Kiran’s cheek. “Thank you.”

And so ended Alfonse’s long and tortuous wait for Kiran’s recovery.


End file.
